


Legacy

by leiascully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fertility Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:06:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4876174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There’s more to fatherhood than the obvious.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: season 7  
> A/N: From a tumblr discussion with aloysiavirgata.  
> Disclaimer: _The X-Files_ and all related characters are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

She’s been through two rounds of IVF, exhausted her body, her spirit, and her savings. She’s standing by the filing looking at the latest bill from the hospital when Mulder walks in. He surprises her sometimes, quiet as a cat. She slips the letter into a file, but the set of his shoulders tells her he knows what she was doing. Of course he knows what she was doing. Her quest for a child has taken over their lives, the same way his quest for the child stolen from his family did. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks. He has become solicitous about her health. “You need to eat more than bee pollen,” he chided her for weeks, and brought her sandwiches from Potbelly.

“I’m fine,” she tells him. It’s all she knows to say anymore. If she opens her mouth any further, she isn’t sure what will come out. She is one of Mulder’s conspiracy theorists’ treasured supervolcanoes, heat and pressure and misery tamped down for so long that when she finally lets loose, she will blanket the world with her sorrows.

“Scully,” he says gently. “I can help you pay for this.”

“Mulder, no,” she says, her dismissal automatic. “You don’t have to do that.”

He brushes off her brush-off with a shrug. “There’s more to fatherhood than the obvious.”

“I can manage,” she says, but they both know that’s a lie. She’s been careful all these years, and her health insurance is good (of course), but her savings have not been enough to compensate for the failure of her body, or more accurately, to overcome the deficits imposed on her. She is not certain whose debt she has paid, but it has broken her. 

“Please,” he says, and that surprises her too. She looks up, startled, and is lost in the forest of his eyes. “I want to help you.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she mumbles, the familiar old litany, and he shakes his head impatiently.

“That isn’t why and you know it,” he says. “Scully, I want to help you. You aren’t doing this alone.”

She swallows hard against the lump in her throat. The words can’t squeeze through the tightness. He steps closer, cups her face in one hand, tips her chin up so she has to keep looking into his eyes. 

“Why did you think you were doing this alone?” he asks, his voice as soft as lambswool. She wants a blanket that soft to swaddle the baby in.

“I thought that was what you wanted,” she says, and the words are as small as fine print on a prescription. 

“I want what you want,” he says, and lets his other hand rise until he’s cradling her face between his hands. She feels so small and so fragile and so precious, gazing up at him. He leans down and kisses her forehead and she closes her eyes, letting her world shrink to the warmth of his hands, the warmth of his lips, the warmth of his heart not far from hers. “I want us to leave some legacy in this world aside from the trophies they’ve taken from us. I want there to be someone in the world made out of you and me.”

She breathes in and out, shakily, trying not to let the gloss in her eyes turn into tears. If she starts to weep, she might not stop. She is so very tired. 

“It’ll be a better return on my investment than a flight to Antarctica,” he murmurs, pulling her close, and she laughs against his chest, ridiculously grateful.

“You could always ship me back if you’re not satisfied,” she tells him, sniffling a little against his clean shirtfront. 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t satisfied,” he says, stroking her hair. “I just think this will be even better.”

“Thank you,” she says. 

“We’re in this together,” he tells her. “You and me, Scully, Bonnie and Clyde. You don’t need to thank me.”

She says nothing this time, just lets herself sway in the circle of his arms. He holds her up, and the world keeps turning.


End file.
